Update from Qudus' blog

Dec 12, 2006

One of the surfers of the earth wisdomI declare, I belongWe write about the rite We create, they cryThese feelings I get Disorderliness in manThis allergy I have gotLairs, mongers, foes and game peopleHow do I move?How do I dance?How do I write?And for why do I? Ring-a-ring-a-rosieThis theatre is full of roses.* * * * *Yet I can’t dancetrapped all overOur patron, a couple of mongersour friends, a bunch of foesAnd I swear not to be a prey Why is man in here?Running after fictionI just need a stage to be seenMaybe I’m wrong like every other,But without pretence, I CAN’TOnce again I’m out of my mindAnd this time I promise its overring-a-ring-a-rosiethis theatre if fool of prosesWe all fall down afterwards.

The struggles of man begins even before birth, getting out of mother's womb was a mere game compared to my subsequent struggles.I try to stand up and be counted,i exert myself to walk with series of staggers and falls,Going through the four corners of life, i still labour to survive,I was born in a land where sun neither sets nor rises,i look to the heavens for the April showers to wash away my pains and tears of sorrow.i get my fair share of miserable days, Days of fighting the scourge Of oppressors and thieves in the land, Days of laughing scornfully at death. Days of determination to survive,I'm so unfortunate to be born In this age of terror in my land. Oh my own land so pray, where can I find this freedom I so crave?The land has made me whatever I am today, …i don’t care. I no longer care about what tomorrow may bring As my past and present has sapped everything and brought nothing other than misery,as everything comes and goes, It’s so hard to leave my past behind.

Once again the moon and sun has planned another reunion,thinking of how to make today a reality of what they dreamt of yesterday,and make tomorow just another daybut the stars were absent,So its weakness became an advantage for them.They came to tell us about thier great God,then fell in love with the gods of our fathers.Maybe this is another evolution...Yet they complain "You dirty, you never take you bath,never you elegant? you prefer to be seenin the compound of pigs, you beggars".So our weakness has become an advantage for them.

In my surgeon to the coast of many coloursThat brings forth colourful smiles to nature,Here comes the autumn of NovemberTheir birds immigrating in bunchThe trees giving up their colours to ashesAnd our smoking chimney whistles day and night,The sound of LamentationHE HAS BEEN HEREHopeless animals in the nearby transparent forestThe more strong still eating up the more weakBefore the white bear returns.

Dec 1, 2006

Mr. Rock and rollFor how long do you think you’d rock the world?In your rock mind you dread a righteous lifeBut you are often in the leftMr. Rock ‘n’ rollRoll up new philosophyYou are not going to rock foreverNeither will you roll the riverMore than one time in your lifetimeThen, no one will ever rock to your rock ‘n’ roll

With his guitar and a pot of coinsResponding to the rhythm of his inner mind,I have a world inside of me, different from me,It makes me scream 10 times a day,It makes me feel stupid 7 hours a day,It makes me shed a cup of tears a dayAnd at the end of the day it becomes a universe.Begins his race at the launch of dawnDestination to nowhere;The day so short for another nightmare under the groundDo you know who i am?

You see me daily but too busy to notice me,I knock at your door each time you’re off to workI got no job, my home is on the streetOh my goodness, I am still helpless in my darkness,

When will I be out of my useless illness of homelessnessThat is becoming endless, regardless my eagerness for happiness,I’m still fortuneless, this is the cry of a homeless.

Nov 30, 2006

Few days after my last birthday i just came to realize that most part of my life I have been lied to,Either to myself or by others.My life has been close to toy story,the life i live is not minethe ones i cherished belong to someone elseand the one i want will never be mineAll my life I dreamt of beating hulk Hogan upAnd probably have sex with celine dion at least onceBut my Yoruba accent will be a set back I know.These days i've been thinking of how to proof Isaac Newton wrong Because I don’t like his name and race thenI remembered when my mother was carrying my life in her wombHow cute and peaceful I was all alone in her womb

Nov 25, 2006

let that succesful man who didn't take a life in his quest for success show up his face,show me a politician who is not playing a gamebring me the guy that wants to be a hero without a selfish interestwhere is the living soul that says racism exist no moreare there still blacks going about siniging "i'm black and proud!"?each day i keep graying older to realize that;we all are guilty of our mistakes,we all are killers at a point in life,we all are guilty of our past,we all are in sane but only the psychos are locked up

Nov 23, 2006

What seem beautiful in this lifewhen those we think beautiful could be so complicatedwhat a strange life indeed.those ridding horses are still not contented with those on foot,putting on rags yet those with clothes are angry,thousands of mammals walk with stomach on floornot knowing which among them got stomach ache,life never wish to see us unload our burdens.My friend got few coins in his pouch, so people got attracted to himhe thought he was been loved,not knowing that the chicken are only after the corns attached to his tailhe grow wings and thought he got twenty heads on one bodyhe refused to well fix his eyes on the floor, if it glides or notnot thinking well that not all that glitters could be gold,my humble proud friend close your eyes today like the deadsee how many will mourn you, keep your trust to yourselfand the clean parts of your hand under your clothesthose we seek their help in crossing the oceanmight still push us off in the middle of the river,he who we could keep secrets with could be a talkativethose we ask to scratch our back got sharp objects in hand to tear us offwhy don’t you sleep as if you are deadand see what people will say of you after deatheven when no one knows what life would look like after deathbut i believe it will still be more bearable than this lifewhere those behind seek the downfall of those beforethose beyond having time to avoid those behind from advancingand if they are unable to hold you to stop they draw you back.

but why… why is life not so sympathique, why is it this complicated;but why has God created His creatures without giving the wisdom to rule their destiny,He looks patiently while they keep searching endlesslyfor what their cognizance and knowledge can never be able to attain,but why, some concludes that God don’t exist.too much trials and tribulation that begin from birth till deathwounds get healed with time and forgottenbut why these wounds life inflicts never get healed.

we know as we can as well hear them even when far awaytheir strong rhythm of hypocrisy and willing to get us backstabbedbut why… but why is it so difficult to know who really loves and care about onewhy is it never stamped on the fore head or seen in the eyeballsthose who looks like friends to us, those who are nothing but backbitersthe hypocrites sings our praise only for us to turn our backand get stabbed right in the middle of the spine.only if they knew, only if they are awareeven when far away the beaches are still connectedthe wall extends and get to us wherever we are.

The hands so weak to lift a plume,Eye lids drops dead and stop working,Brain slides and fade away all thinkings,Heads drops side to side and strains the neck,But breath never stops runingEven moves stronger than normal,Whilst the weight looses itself.

Moving into a other worldWhich is still ours, but not us,A world only where humanscould grow wings and compete with the birds,Only here we walk on water.all dressed up undresses and back to dress,hypocrite tiptoes behind clouds,Witches with crossed legs against the wallJourneying to baobab tree,All speaks silently as the wall keeps its earsto spread rumors.

Fear takes charge every corner,Lantern takes over household including streets,The wind ready to take the little noise far away,Evil reign over the weak and ignores the strong,Scream is heard only for attention,As temptation so close to humans,WHEN IT FALLS ON US.

Every one crying for peace in the worldbut shall i fight towards no peace ...i shall fight towards equal right and justicethis crazy, mysterious and beautiful world we live,all wants to go to heaven but no one wants to die...Everyone dreads an atmosphere of changebut no one wants to sacrefice...no one wants to be an Hero.

Y-O-U, wake up from your slumbernever say you can't, start from that surrounding of yoursstart to make a change,there is nomore mesaiah coming to save the worldwe really want to save the world ?we need to save the children firstsetting an example for them to followto make a better tomorrow that can only begin today.

Move out of your specificity,come towards me, Get out of you,come to me. Is this refreshing?Open and show yourself,do as you do in your house in my houseSure this is dance.But who dance for whom?Who decide the good and bad?I'm a dancer of myself,a CHAMELEON dancer

The more strong organizes the more weakThis surely affects her identityYou said kill it and she stabbed itNow, you mourn over itBecause you're not trained to see bloodCan we play this game without going for training?can we drink coca-cola and dance?enough of politics, she wants some realities

* * * * * * * * * * * * * Hell is cobbled with good intentions we knowTo live is like fleeing from one question to the otherSuffering and joy normal winds of lifewe trust in our wings...Our answer is blowing in the wind.

Nov 16, 2006

If you think that the livelihood of your homeis not comfortable enoughbecause you want to feel like "Robin in da hood",good, just get an agent, sell your home and move to Hollywood,then you will be done for, when you find out thateven the hoods in the neighborhood of Hollywoodare willing to pay any price with all goodwillfor the food of your home.So think again before you get into the mood.

I want you to seeWhat we all see everydayBut you did not see and I’ve seenBecause we all are not meant to see.

I want my work to break through wallsAnd exceed human imaginationAnd traverse your heartWithout any form of barrierBecause my emotion has no language

I want to let that man in the Far East to find his space,And that in the Latino see his shadowLet those tribes in Africa mirror their portraitAnd the westerners see their own noseBecause my expression has no color

Nov 5, 2006

Beautiful evening, after sun setswalking home, with a head full of pessimistic thoughtssuddenly few able bodied youth of a particular tribe with cutlasses, sword, sticks and remains of broken bottlesrunning anxiously after a young man of other tribe,misses target as they gave each strokethey were really determined to get him off feetmy poor young man was really determined to survive as well.And I kept my eyes on them willing to see the endAlas, they got him and he fellgreatest surprise, he was rushed; i thought cannibals were hungry for human fleshand there was a feastseries of beatings, hitting, stabbings and cuttingsuntil we thought the young man was deadstill they went further putting petrol on himI still wait to see the end so could be an eye witnessto have the story to tell as it happened without fallacy.They stroke a match and young man was ablazesurprisingly, body we all thought was deadstood up and struggles to flee with flames, Pitifully he died while on his feet with posture of a calved objectat this point, i couldn't wait to look any further, it is unbearable how fellow human suffers to die

at the bus stop, here comes a bus calling my destination quickly i jumped in without realizing he was calling one more chanceall of a sudden i received an impromptu slap from behind to get me intimidatedat first, i thought i fell asleep and that happened in a dream as the sun and the moon were at a time closer to my eyes, the next echo i heard was-your phone, your money- i gave it all unconsciouslyi was thrown out of the bus before i begin to get myself on axisall in second, too soon to recollect what really happened.

Have you ever imagined yourself on the street one day,Rushing to catch up with your destiny that has been failing you, You wonder if you shall ever meet up with the connect coach to where your dreams are, Suddenly you get bundled and thrown into a car, a police car taking you far away from the destination of your expenditure.You wonder what is happening as the car moves on farther,You ask many questions that got any answers in the open air,You wonder what sort of trial you are into.you wish to wake from your sleep because its just a dream.you look arround for the candid camera playing pranks on you,until you get interrogated and no identity card to identify yourself as a fortunate citizen of life,

you are then charged to court, Therefore you are guilty because you can’t even understand its realSo you are sentenced to five years imprisonment,At this point you begin to wonder why your god denies you so much,Why your head is not with youWhy there is plenty injustice on your side.Imagine what your days and weeks will look like during five years in jailBecause surely you got no one, any one who ever care about your where about to bail you out,

Ok lets cut the story short, after five long years in jail, You made not even one connection during your stay and now you are back to abnormal life.A world where you could no longer recognize your right from left,Everything become so strange as you still live in the past,How could you forget such past of yours?You begin each day with tears of sorrows and end it with pain Caused to you by the irrationality of life,You begin to live a life you cannot understand because its not yours, Then, you will realize how beautiful the life you’ve been living is compare to what you got since your arrival,Then you shall realize that you have become a victim of life.

Oct 12, 2006

MONEY CAN’T BUYDo you want to see African dance?We are dance merchantsFrom the down sideOf the AtlanticWe SELL Dance,Our culture, for SALE,We SAIL our ArtOur tradition is often on SALESBUT…Not our DignityThat, you can’t buyI AM A YORUBA MANI warn.Not a bush manI am a countryman,

You wished so much for FREEDOMSo, you luck yourself upYou wished so much for LIBERTYSo, you let go all religionsYou wished so much for FUNSo, you renounced a bisexual lifeYou think so much about this WORLDSo, you plan to live in your solitude foreverYou wished so much for a WORLD OF PEACESo, you make ATOMIC WEAPONS FOR MASS DESTRUCTION

even if the storm treatingsand the heaven sent forth firei shall not want...my passion will outshine my faithmy smile will overpass my painsmy vission shall overlap my dreamsi shall not want...i shall sleep and dream about my dreamsi shall wake to pursue this dreams,i have a dream that the summer does comebut after the stormand i shall not want.